Chapter 3.11 - Travelblog - Island Hopping: Koh Phangan & Koh Tao

Koh Phangan – a short visit, a long feeling

Sometimes it’s not the plan that carries you. It’s that quiet pull in your chest when you realize: there’s still one more piece missing. Not because you need another photo. But because you’re chasing a feeling.

After my Koh Samui chapter, I wasn’t fully “done” on the inside. So I took one or two days and crossed over to Koh Phangan. No big schedule. No pressure to see it all. More like visiting someone everyone talks about — just to find out what it does to you in real life.

Koh Phangan has two faces, and somehow both fit perfectly. On one side, there’s the famous Full Moon Party in Haad Rin — a monthly ritual where the island turns up the volume of the whole universe. Neon paint, bass in the sand, fire shows, crowds, and that strange idea that tomorrow doesn’t exist for a few hours. I didn’t go in “full chaos mode,” but you still feel it. In certain weeks, the energy hangs in the air like someone turned up the island’s heartbeat.

And then there’s the other side. Koh Phangan can be unbelievably quiet. Quiet in a way that makes you hear yourself again. I rode around a bit and let the island shift its moods. Thong Sala felt like the practical “arrival zone” — scooters, markets, food, a little bit of harbor life, the honest island everyday rhythm. And just a few curves later, everything softens. Green jungle. Hidden bays. A calm that isn’t empty, but full.

The west coast had that barefoot sunset feeling I love so much — the kind of place where you don’t have to do anything except exist. And that’s where it happens: the mind gets quieter, and the heart gets louder.

Of course, I also did what I always do: I ate. Because a travel journal without street food makes as much sense as Thailand without a 7-Eleven. The markets in Thong Sala are the kind of places where you promise yourself “just something small”… and ten minutes later you’re holding multiple bags and wondering how that happened. Spoiler: it always happens. And honestly, I’m fine with it.

After one or two days, it didn’t feel like I “ticked off” Koh Phangan. It felt more like a quick hug. And sometimes that’s enough. You don’t have to own a place to truly feel it.

Koh Tao – salt air, three snorkel spots, and a reset button

Koh Tao didn’t come as a classic “next stop, check in, stay for days.” For me it was a boat tour straight from Koh Samui. And that ride alone deserved its own paragraph.

The waves were strong. Strong enough that you quickly noticed who was sea-proof… and who started having that very specific look people get when their stomach begins negotiating with reality. And me? I loved it. Truly.

I love the ocean when it’s not only pretty, but also honest. When it reminds you it’s an element you respect, not a background decoration. Some people felt uncomfortable. I felt strangely free. Because at some point you understand: you can tense up and fight it, or you can let it carry you. And if you manage to loosen your grip, even rough waves can feel like a kind of release.

On Koh Tao we snorkeled at three different spots. And there it was again — this underwater universe Thailand seems to offer so effortlessly. That turquoise clarity. That quiet awe. The moment your thoughts suddenly get smaller the second you slip into the water. It feels like a reset button. Like someone presses “back to what matters.”

At the third stop, something happened that I didn’t expect: a small private restaurant right there — and it was absolutely sensational. Not fancy in a showy way. Just perfect. Classic Thai cuisine, but on point. The kind of food that makes you quiet after the first bite because you realize: this isn’t just cooking — this is understanding. Salt on your skin, sun on your face, that soft tiredness from the sea — and suddenly there’s this calm happiness in your stomach. No fireworks. Just real.

Koh Nang Yuan – heat, crowds, a viewpoint… and that quiet “thank you”

After lunch we continued to the private island Koh Nang Yuan. This place is special to me because I was here almost twenty years ago. Returning to a place you’ve carried only as a memory is a strange kind of emotion. Back then it felt wilder, simpler, emptier. Today there’s more infrastructure — even a café — and everything is more organized.

And yes, there are a lot of people, especially in the heat. This is not the “lonely island moment,” and it’s important to be honest about that. But still — it remains one of those places that can touch you again and again. The sandbar, the light, the colors of the water… it’s beauty that doesn’t need to be loud to move you.

On Nang Yuan, I was basically focused on one thing: the viewpoint. And with those temperatures and that amount of people, it honestly became a small challenge. A very Thailand kind of challenge: you want that one view, and you have to earn it. Sweat, patience, a little inner complaining, and that brief moment where you ask yourself why you’re doing this.

And then you’re up there. You look down. You see the shapes, the colors, the nature — and suddenly everything inside you gets quiet. I stood there and had one of those moments I keep having in Thailand: a silent, honest “thank you.” Not dramatic. Not cheesy. Just gratitude that I get to see this with my own eyes.

And maybe that’s exactly what island hopping does to me: it reminds me that it’s not about achieving as much as possible. It’s about letting a place bring you back to yourself — if you let it.

And right here, at this point, it’s time for me to move on again. I’m leaving Koh Samui, Koh Phangan, and Koh Tao behind and heading to my absolute favorite airport on this planet. For me, it’s not “just an airport.” It feels like a huge, green theme park that happens to handle airplanes. Everything feels open, thoughtful, friendly — almost calming. Palms, greenery, warm tropical air as soon as you arrive, and that strange feeling that even “departure” somehow looks like vacation there. I love this place because it reminds me that traveling isn’t only about destinations — it’s also about transitions, those in-between spaces that can be just as beautiful as arriving.

From there, I’m heading back to Bangkok. Not because I’m done with island paradise, but because there are still things waiting for me — real-life tasks, unfinished chapters, a city that always pulls me back in. Bangkok is practical, loud, intense… and still, I’m looking forward to it. Because I know this city always gives me material. For thoughts. For stories. For life.

Thank you for joining me on this part of the journey. Thank you for reading, thank you for listening. The trip is far from over. The next course is already set: Bangkok. The next chapter is waiting.

Your Dominik — welcome on board.